inter is the quiet time. Driving around, unsuspected homes appear in the woods. Snowmobiles take you to parts of the Island's interior that go unseen the rest of the year. Out on the snowy wilderness trails on cross-country skis, you can hear the last withered oak leaf drop, or the call of a distant bird. Ice fishing or skating on the frozen lakes or in the harbor, the harsh air crystallizes your thoughts ... if you listen, you can hear yourself think. Then a friend comes over the hill, the chase is on again, and soon it'll be time to strip off your down-filled clothing, eat a delicious meal, and cuddle up in front of a fire. Spring>>